


Mar Vista

by orphan_account



Category: im not tagging this
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, im not tagging the characters in this i aint gettin found out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's just a fic for someonethirsty ass hoe, love u thoslightly rushed just because imma be real with you chief-i have no attention span and this boi was screaming at me to finish this





	Mar Vista

There had been an ambulance, it's flashing strobe lights blinked just outside the house John had been headed towards before. Red and blue danced upon the suburban houses, or maybe it was purple as John's senses blurred with the sense of panic that caught him in a vice grip and squeezed until he couldn't breathe. He parked beside the sidewalk and got out of his car. He couldn't care about the vape he just dropped or the rings that slipped from his fingers and clambered onto the ground. He felt too warm despite the foggy air from his strained breath telling him otherwise. He wanted to take off his hoodie; to rip it off with every fiber of his being. Tears stung his eyes, fell down his face, and left him feeling weak.

For a moment, he wanted to scream. He wanted to cry out in pure agony, because he knew what was going on. He couldn't breathe. The sounds from his body were absent but he was wailing in his head. He ran faster than he thought his legs could ever move.

Suddenly, that voice he yearned for, screamed for him.

"Craig!! Fuck, Craig! No, no no no!" he cried out in pain that was unbearable to listen to. A paramedic quickly rushed to him and grabbed his arms, stopping him from running any further.

"Sir, you need to calm down. Do you know the victim?"

Victim. That word.

His chest caved in on itself. It lit itself on fire, and burned to death. He nodded, but he didn't understand. Victim, of course. That's what it always was. Craig was the victim of everything that's ever happened to him. Always hurt. Always going to the hospital. On the brink of death or a mental breakdown. Always. Never anything else.

The next few words he couldn't comprehend or digest, but he somehow understood anyways. In the next moment, he froze.

If red and blue was there before, balanced and equal, then red took over and became dominant now. The crisp air had become wet and heavy with a metallic tang, and John became dizzy. With the pounding of his heart came the drip of a crimson liquid that shouldn't have been there.

Stigmata. An injury that resembles one that Jesus Christ suffered. A ring of blood around the head. It wasn't the only injury there. It just stuck out. There was a few cuts. A few bruises. Something indicated a struggle. John's head became dizzy and he tore himself away from the paramedic, leaned over, and let vomit rise through his throat and fall onto the ground. He coughed a few times, struggling to get himself together.  
He stood up shakily as he spat and wiped his mouth. "I-I'll be there, at the hospital," he informed the paramedic, who nodded in response and got into the emergency vehicle. John made his way to his own car, having only picked up his vape and none of his rings that he dropped. He couldn't care.

He drove, following the ambulance. No matter how much he wanted to pretend it wasn't happening, the evidence was constantly blinking in front of his face.  
He wanted it to stop. He wanted this to end.  
\---------  
Craig woke up. He was put under heavy medication and was under close watch, but he was okay. Finally. 

John had been by his side for hours, hoping that he'd come to during that time. A sigh left his body, causing Craig to look at him.

"..John? You're here. You got my distress text," he murmured gently. He sounded less relieved and more like he couldn't breathe, or that he was exhausted. John quickly whipped his head, wide-eyed like he was in disbelief.

"Of course I'm here! Fuck, I watched you get carried off in a stretcher, covered in blood and bruises. I listened to the nurses when they told me what was wrong. Craig, you got a bottle smashed on your head, you got stabbed multiple times, punched and slammed, and then you were shot in the leg. I'm here because I was terrified," John went on and on before he stopped to breathe. "Thank god someone called 911 because they could hear what was happening in your fucking house!"  
John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "The nurses said you can't be alone for a while, and police say that you can't enter your house because it needs to be preserved for evidence. So it's either you stay here or you live with me, and I'm not letting you stay in a shitty hospital."

Craig opened his mouth to protest, but John fixed him with a hard stare that clearly showed his intent. There was no arguing, it was going to have to happen. At least John would make sure it did.  
In around another hour or two, hospital workers came in to state that since Craig's condition was fluctuating between stable and somewhat life threatening, he'd have to stay for another two days before they could be sure that he could function without the use of medical equipment. His bullet wound was fine, and so was the cuts on his skull. He was still bruised, and the main concern were the stab wounds he'd suffered.

Both men accepted this, and John got up to go home. It was already late to begin with, and John couldn't stay all night. They'd have to part for now, and it made both of them anxious no matter how much they didn't like to talk about it.  
Physical wounds hurt, but the emotional ones hurt worse.

Watching someone you love get hurt over and over hurt.

Living life knowing you'll get hurt again in a few months or a year, hurt.

Having no one around to help, even for a small amount of time, was the most painful thing either of them could deal with.

It was nauseating. They felt sick.  
\---------  
"Come on. Let's get you inside, man. Be careful."

John quickly helped Craig out of the car, supporting the weaker side of his body, while holding the food they bought earlier with his free hand. Before Craig had come to live with him, he rearranged the furniture to that the couch was the closest thing to the door.

He brought Craig over to the softly cushioned sofa and sat him down. Craig let out a relaxed sigh as soon as he felt the plush fabric and sunk into it, eyes closed with his face pointed towards the ceiling.  
John watched him and couldn't help but frown. He was glad that the other was relieved, and felt better, but it was the fact that he was fucked up to this point that got him. He was hurt so badly that a couch was more than enough. He just wanted something other than a hospital bed and John could tell.

John put the food on the coffee table in front of Craig, and then gently sat beside him. He moved his head to take a glance, and then spoke. "...Craig. Mini. You feeling okay?"  
Craig opened his eyes slowly and glanced softly at the long-haired male, who he noticed looked more disheveled than normal. He traced along the parts of John's face that stuck out the most. Deep bags under his eyes, deeper than they normally would be. His hair was messy and had started to get knotted in places, but not to the point where it was overly noticeable.

"..You know the answer already," Craig slowly adjusted himself to face the other, fixing him with a serious stare. "Are you feeling okay, is the question."

John stopped and paused, staring over at the TV across from them. The question completely startled him and shook him to his core, and the pit of his stomach felt widened; deepened. A voice in the back of his mind told him to lie, to stuff it away because he wasn't the hurt one right now.He wasn't the one who was led out of a broken house, bloodied on a stretcher.

Craig tapped him on the shoulder which caused him to whip his head to the side to look at him again.

"John. Answer me, for fucks sake. And don't lie."  
He couldn't find the words, his throat feeling tight and dry. As he tried to force out a semblance of something, he stuttered before he let out a few words.

"I-I, look. Stop asking that, it's not important," he spoke breathlessly, looking at Craig like he was being unreasonable. Craig let out his disappointment and concern in a sigh and then gently corrected his position, as he slouched and it had become uncomfortable.

"We'll talk about it later," Craig muttered, almost disheartened with the results of the conversation. He carefully reached for the brown, rumpled bag, which smelled delightful with the McDonalds food inside. There was a couple of golden brown hashbrowns and a McMuffin, and beside sat a cooled cup of coffee that still had a bit of steam left.

"You need to eat, too. Come on, please?" Craig handed over a hashbrown, and John took it, though he hesitated as if he was stealing Craig's life source. Regardless of how much of an exaggeration it was, it slipped into the back of his mind and he sighed.  
"You're still generous to a fault, you know that? Do you ever fuckin' take care of yourself?"

Craig chuckled lightly. "Of course. I don't hurt that bad, giving you food won't kill me."

John stifled but then smiled, eating more of the hashbrown. It had cooled, and would continue to cool, but it was still enjoyable and eventually the whole thing was scarfed down and safely resting in the male's stomach. Craig ate the other food, careful with the coffee as not to burn himself.

The TV was soon turned on and with the Xbox One turned on, they had blown through several hours of Youtube videos and Nextflix, of course without 'chilling' as it was so called. They were closer to each other than before, with Craig feeling tempted to lean onto the other. He didn't need to, he just wanted that closeness. To feel another warm person next to him, and feel surrounded with that heat.  
Craig turned his head to John and murmured. "...John. Can I lean on you? Just..feels uncomfortable to sit up."

It was a lie but it was harmless. As the other male nodded, Craig laid his head against a broad shoulder and gently closed his eyes. He didn't mean to doze off, but it was too good. It felt wonderful. He wondered if John felt this, but denied it and quickly chased the thought out of his mind. Of course, John wanted it too, it was only a matter of time.

And well, time moves by fast when you're with the one you love.  
\-----------  
Craig healed, but John worried. They spent as much time together as possible, not wanting to part. Craig wanted John, he needed this man by his side. He felt safe, and happy and protected. Sleeping in separate rooms turned into fun sleepovers on the living room couch. Those times turned into sleeping in the same bed on the weekends, sleeping in and taking in each other's warmth and scent, using the time to listen to those snores and heartbeats as if it was chicken soup for the soul. It let John relax, knowing Craig was right by his side. The worrying eased, and sleepless, anxious nights were no longer.

Another weekend, another time to sleep. Craig had taken off his shirt and pants, leaving him with only boxers. John kept his shirt on, and they were beside each other. They were used to this, it was normal to them now since they had done it so much. They whispered and laughed about meaningless garbage, sometimes stuck on heavier topics before one of them would crack a joke and it would return to normal. They talked about everything.

"John," Craig blinked, and looked down at the bed. He was turned on his side, curled up underneath a blanket as it was cold in the house. John looked at him curiously, but with a hint of anxiousness as obvious as sweat on one's brow. He turned onto his side to face him, which caused Craig to lift his line of sight to the other's eyes. Beautiful, and lightly contrasting with the yellow ambiance of the room.

"I..I'm worried about you. You seem so worried all the time. You know I'm never going to leave, right?"

This sentence caught John off guard, and Craig quickly continued.

"I want to make sure you're happy. I'm not going anywhere, especially not back home, if I can even fucking call it that. Shit, this is my home now. I don't really wanna leave."  
Suddenly Craig was caught in a hug, with John's face buried in his chest, not minding the unshaven style of it.

"Please don't ever leave. I was worried you'd get hurt. Thank fucking god you're staying. I wouldn't forgive myself if I let you end up in the ER again." 'I love you too much for that.' He thought this, but as he raised his head and looked at the shocked look on Craig's face, he realized he'd said those words out-loud and he stammered. "F-Fuck, uh--"  
Craig paused and then huffed, smiling. "Shut the fuck up."  
He wrapped his arms around John and, in a fit of passion, pressed his lips against the other's and held it there for a couple seconds before moving away.

"I've been waiting for this since forever, you fucker. You wanted to be that Xbox controller, right?" He rolled both of them over so that he was hovering above John. "You good?"  
John nodded and breathed out. "Yeah, I'm good." He grabbed Craig's hips, slightly digging his fingers into imaginary grooves and looking up at him. Craig lowered his lower body until his ass was firmly placed against John's crotch, causing both of their breathing to hitch. They didn't want to take this too fast.

Craig moved his hips rhythmically, only moving slowly. Of course, it didn't take much for the both of them to become fully erect. Craig had leaned down to bite John's neck. In a few nibbles he found a sensitive spot and abused it as much as he could. John let out a small, soft whimper.

"Hhh-- I didn't kn-know I had that spot."

"Well, you know now, right?~" He then began to suck roughly in that same area, which caused John to move his head back and groan.

"Jesuuus.." he breathed heavily, face red. Craig slowly slipped his hands into the hem of John's boxers and pulled them down slowly, revealing the head of his cock. He moved away from John's neck, going down to what was considered blowjob territory. Which was exactly what he was planning on doing.

"Mmh, fuck!" A slick tongue ran over the sensitive area, and a cry surfaced from the other. Craig looked up at him expectantly and felt confident when he saw just how deep into it he was. He moved John's boxers lower, and took the tip into his mouth.  
He let out a grunt of surprise when John decided to thrust into his mouth, hands suddenly gripping his hair. John sat up a bit, thrusting more when he felt comfortable. Craig felt his face redden more than it already had.  
He whimpered with each thrust, liking the feeling of a phallus down his throat. Well, until his gag reflex came in and he choked, which made John pull away immediately.

"Fuck, you okay?" He breathed heavily, and of course with concern.  
Craig wiped his mouth and panted. "Yeah. A little slower this time, okay?"  
John nodded, and Craig wrapped his lips around his cock again. He thrusted slowly, and not as deep, which was much better for the both of them. Moans emanated from the both of them, each trying to latch onto each other.  
Craig stuck his tongue out to pleasure the shaft, and it sent a chill down John's spine.

Of course the exchange went on back and forth for around 15-20 minutes before John reared back, cock twitching.

"A-Alright, I don't want to cum yet. You're way too fucking gifted with your mouth," he panted, chucking at his small joke. Craig wiped his mouth and took a deep breath in, and then looked up at John with a smirk dowsed in what seemed to be romanticism.  
John grabbed the lube that had been on his nightstand for days. He didn't have the decency to hide it, because he was a man of no shame. He took a good handful and wrapped his hand around himself, stroking to evenly distribute the clear fluid. He panted a bit and groaned, stroking himself faster until a hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Hey, don't jack yourself off. At least drill my ass into the bed first," Craig let out a chuckle, as to which in response John waited a bit before getting up suddenly and pinning him down.

"And you thought I wouldn't? Even if I came." And with that came a loud, needy gasp from Craig as John teasingly slipped into him, spreading his legs. Suddenly, the room felt so much hotter, their bodies intermingling when John locked hands with Craig, desperately ramming into his ass.

"J-John f-fuck, ahhh fuck!!" Craig arched his back, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back. He whined, rutting back against John's hips. With his free hand he gripped the bedsheets, nearly ripping them.

"Mmh, good bo-oy. Y-You're so fu-ucking good for me," John breathed out lowly into Craig's ear, taking his free hand to rub deep circles into Craig's hips with his thumb. Craig gasped as that was a sensitive spot for him, and then moaned gently, wrapping his legs around John.

A slick, clear liquid fell from Craig's cock and down onto his stomach, pooling there. He was quickly becoming overwhelmed, tears falling from his eyes from sheer pleasure alone.  
John grinned, kissing up Craig's chest until he got to his lips, gently forcing his tongue in until they were surely frenching in the heat of the moment. And like hell they were messy about it too, no doubt about it. They soon parted, saliva connecting their lips as they both heaved for air.

"...John..fuck me as hard as you can. No holding back, right?" Craig breathed between his words, grinning. "G-Go ahead."

John pinned Craig down roughly and went to town, their bodies slamming against on another's in a way that was crude enough to start shaking the bed. Craig's gentle moans quickly turned into screams of estacy, tears cascading down his face like waterfalls. Craig could just barely grasp what was going on, his mind blanking and his vision going black as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He whined John's name constantly, feeling his stomach tighten and coil, feeling hotter and hotter.

"J-John, w-wait stop, I can't hold it! I-I can't--" he stammered. But John didn't stop at all, instead opting only to raw him until the very end. In only a few seconds, Craig had burst and let rope after rope of hot cum line his chest, crying out in bliss. He rode out his orgasm, stroking himself until he was dry.

This was followed by a grunt and low groan, and Craig gasped as John reached his orgasm. He slowed his thrusts to a crawl, and then pulled out. He panted and looked at Craig, grinning.

"H-Holy shit." He rolled off of Craig and picked him up gently, moving him to the other end of the bed with the pillows. He covered them both with a blanket, quickly pulling the other closer into a sweet embrace. He kissed Craig's forehead.

"Y-You did really good..." Craig chuckled and curled up, resting against John. "We should sleep. I love you, okay?"

John ran a hand through Craig's hair. "Love you too, whore." He joked, which made Craig giggle slightly. He watched the British male close his eyes and slowly drift into dreamless sleep, as did he a few moments later.  
The room was warm, and humid with their activities. No doubt would they wake up feeling gross the next morning but, that was fine. It didn't matter.

They wanted this. It was really all they needed.


End file.
